


the cutest.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel
Genre: Dubious Consent, Feeding, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Feeding, M/M, Oral Fixation, Shapeshifting, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 17:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15490962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: The Grandmaster likes to push him.It's not always easy.





	the cutest.

It’s a vulnerable position, being in the Grandmaster’s lap like this. Loki is scarcely dressed, wearing a loose cloth that is tied about his waist and does little to cover what lies between his legs. He can feel the heat of the Grandmaster’s chest against his bare back, feel his legs spread wide, and he’s–

It’s difficult not to be aroused. The Grandmaster keeps dragging his fingers over Loki’s thighs, playing over the muscle there, and Loki shivers. It feels good, feels  _glorious_ , and yet it’s nearly impossible to relax, to lean into it, because Loki’s arousal isn’t the  _point_. The Grandmaster had told him this morning he wouldn’t be coming until right at the end of the day, and there’s no sense in getting himself worked up, in getting…

“Take this, baby,” the Grandmaster murmurs, and automatically, Loki opens his mouth. He feels the Grandmaster’s finger and thumb set slowly against his tongue, dragging over the skin. Loki drags his tongue over the Grandmaster’s thumb and forefingers, tasting the salt and the foreign, ancient substances that cling to his very skin, like the pollen of distant, long-dead planets. 

The Grandmaster’s thumb drags slowly over his tongue, drawing a slow circle over the tastebuds there, and Loki closes his lips around it, sucking just slightly. It feels  _right_ , having the Grandmaster’s fingers in his mouth like this, feels comfortable and natural, and he feels the Grandmaster’s lips against his neck, hears him chuckle softly.

“You are just– You are the  _cutest_.” Loki inhales softly, and he feels the Grandmaster spread his fingers slightly, teasing over the insides of Loki’s cheeks. “You hungry?”

Loki says nothing, but the Grandmaster draws his fingers away, and he reaches for something on a tray to the side, something Loki can’t see even when he turns his head, and he closes his eyes as it’s brought up to his mouth. It’s something acidic, fermented, a square of thick, fatty meat, and Loki sighs as he feels it hiss and sizzle on his tongue. He begins to chew it, feeling the way it easily gives way underneath his teeth, and as he chews, the Grandmaster’s finger and thumb hover over his lips, just tickling the surface of the sensitive skin.

Loki swallows. 

“So good for– Aren’t you good, honey?” the Grandmaster asks sweetly, and he reaches for something else. It’s a cracker this time, salty and thick with starch, and Loki chews it delicately, feeling its  _crunch_  beneath his teeth. Again, the Grandmaster’s fingers linger over his mouth, feeling the work of his jaw… And then another piece of meat. Fruit this time, sharply acidic and with a bitter tang. Some sort of tuber, stewed in brine and edged with a Fenesian caramel. A tiny cube of cheese - enough for Loki to taste it, but not enough that it will make him ill. 

And the Grandmaster keeps going. It’s all sorts of foods, stuff the like of which Loki’s never tasted before, and it’s  _good_ , it’s all good, everything catered precisely to Loki’s preferences - nothing too sweet, nothing thick with dairy. There is bitterness and saltiness and acid, and Loki  _adores_  it, but–

“Grandmaster,” Loki mumbles, a little thickly, when something else is pressed against his mouth, a citrus Loki has tasted before, and Loki inhales softly, taking in the scent of it. It makes him feel slightly ill. “I can’t– I’m full.”

“Full?” the Grandmaster repeats in a low purr, and his right hand moves down Loki’s chest, dragging down his naked chest and settling over his belly. He presses down against the bones of his second rib cage, palpating the light muscle there before dragging his thumb over to the dip of Loki’s navel. “Mmm, I don’t know, I think you can take a little more. You have, uh, a bifurcated stomach, right?”

“Which means it sorts foods to digest, not that it can hold twice its proper capacity.” The Grandmaster chuckles.

“Take, uh, take these away, babe.” He taps at the ribs there, at Loki’s second sternum. “I want… Gimme something softer. Gimme something to play with here.” Loki shudders, and then he obeys. He shifts the set of his organs, allowing the bones of his second rib cage to dissolve away and allowing his gut to shift. This is insane. The Grandmaster will only torture him more like this, if he softens his Jotunn set of bone, if he lets– “ _Here_.” the Grandmaster’s fingers press against his belly, feeling for the slight swell of his stomach under the newly soft skin ( _like an AEsir)_  and Loki chokes. 

It hurts, just slightly, the way he presses down just a bit too hard, and he can feel the  _pressure_ , feel himself full, feel–

“Grandmaster,” Loki whispers. “I  _can’t_.”

“Seems to me, baby, like you’re underestimating yourself.” The fruit comes to his mouth again. Loki swallows, and then, obediently–

He opens his mouth.

 “You, honey… The  _cutest_.” Loki chews. Swallows. Feels his stomach cramp. 

“I hate you,” Loki mumbles, feeling a flicker of fear inside him. He doesn’t know what’s coming, can’t  _possibly_  know… And the Grandmaster laughs softly. 

“Good  _boy_ ,” the Grandmaster murmurs, and he reaches for something else.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
